


Whumptober 2019 - 28 - Beaten

by DinerGuy



Series: Whumptober 2019 [28]
Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Whumptober 2019, beaten, callbacks to the camp, client meeting gone wrong, epic marksman Rick, like really wrong, poor Magnum, protective friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinerGuy/pseuds/DinerGuy
Summary: It was just supposed to be a simple client meeting. Somehow, it turned into an interrogation... and not a friendly one.





	Whumptober 2019 - 28 - Beaten

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimers apply.

The people who came to Thomas Magnum for help consisted of all sorts, all with their own unique quirks. So when his newest potential client requested they meet face-to-face for what the man termed a "consultation," Magnum didn't think twice. It seemed reasonable enough of a request; after all, the guy was willing to pay a lot of money for a missing persons case. A discussion before entering into any actual binding agreement would make sense.

Of course, that was before Magnum had shown up at their agreed-upon meeting place—at a coffee shop in an out-of-the-way strip mall—only to be jumped, tied up, and stuffed into the trunk of a car. So now, he found himself being jostled by the uneven road, gritting his teeth behind the duct tape covering his mouth, and trying very hard to figure out what was going on.

He didn't  _ think _ he recognized the men who'd grabbed him, although it was a bit difficult to distinguish any features when one was being roughed up and restrained. Magnum had fought back, of course, and had done an admirable job if he did say so himself. But he unfortunately hadn't succeeded except to get himself knocked in the back of the head hard enough to see stars and cause his surroundings to fade out for an unknown amount of time.

Which led directly to another growing concern: he had no way to tell where he was. He hadn't exactly been fully conscious for the beginning of the trip, meaning he couldn't tell how long they had been traveling or recount their turns, which was going to make escaping a whole lot more difficult.

He racked his brain, trying to think of who could possibly have had a reason to grab him in that manner. To be fair, the life of a private detective was one that tended to make him lots of enemies, but he somehow didn't see this sort of action as something a cheating husband would do for revenge. Key his car? Smash his window? Sure. Abduct him? Not so much.

That still left a number of possible suspects, though. He'd solved his share of murders, and someone involved in one of those cases certainly would have motive to hurt him. But this was definitely more than just a "simple" act of rage. Whoever was behind this had clearly thought it through and done their research. Magnum was fully convinced the consultation meeting had been a ruse, so he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the voice on the phone that morning. If he could just identify it, he'd be that much closer to figuring out what was going on.

The car went over a particularly rough patch of road just then, and he could feel every rattle in his bones. When the next bump came a second later, his already sore head impacted with the side of the car, and he let out a muffled groan. If his skull hadn't been throbbing already, it definitely was now.

Taking a series of deep breaths through his nose, Magnum attempted to refocus his thoughts. Figure out who the voice on the phone had been. That was what he needed to do right now. Except his problem was he really wasn't sure he knew who it was. His head was spinning, and he couldn't exactly think straight, but he was  _ fairly  _ certain he didn't recognize the voice of the man who'd called him.

Well, that was just great.

The only good thing was that he'd promised to drop the Ferrari off at the dealership for a maintenance appointment after his meeting. If he didn't get it there in time, the shop would probably call Higgy and then she'd call him. And, when he didn't answer her calls or texts, she'd undoubtedly track him down in search of the car. The only problem was… he didn't know how long it had been since he'd been taken, so he had no idea exactly when he'd be missed. He just had to hope those events transpired sooner rather than later—and that Higgy would have a way to figure out where he was. He was fairly certain his cell phone had been in his pocket when he'd been taken, although it didn't seem to be any more. Hopefully the bad guys had confiscated it or it had just slid off into the trunk someplace. If it was still with him, Higgy could track it.

A sudden rumbling preceded another series of bone-jarring bumps. Magnum closed his eyes and focused on breathing slowly and steadily. The last thing he needed was to be sick.

All he could do was try to conserve his energy for whatever was going to come once the car reached its destination.

* * *

It had been exactly forty-nine minutes since the time Magnum had promised to have the Ferrari at the shop, and Higgins was not happy. Not only had he missed the drop-off time, but he also was not picking up any of her calls.

His client meeting had been at ten, and the car was supposed to have been at the shop at half-past twelve. Where the man was, she didn't know, but what she  _ did  _ know was that he was not getting off the hook on this one. She'd already rescheduled for him once after he'd gotten caught up in an investigation and hadn't been able to make it. To have missed yet  _ another  _ appointment—and not even had the decency to let her know this time—was absolutely unacceptable. They were going to have a serious talk about commitments just as soon as she could get through to him.

She walked toward the study as yet another call rolled to voicemail, frustrated with the lack of results. Shaking her head, she opened her computer and pulled up her tracking software. Fine. If he wanted to act like a child who couldn't be trusted, she'd just have to treat him like one.

Her fingers flew over the keys, and it didn't take her long to have the location of Magnum's phone pulled up. She leaned in slightly to study the map on her screen.

Well, that was odd.

According to the signal, he was nowhere near either the cafe or the car shop. That seemed more than a little strange. There was no reason for a simple consultation to have turned into anything else  _ and _ no reason for Magnum not to have at least texted her back if it had. Even if he had been caught up in some dramatic car chase or the like, he could've at least called

Higgins bit her lip. With all of her experience, she'd learned to listen to her gut—and it was currently telling her something was very wrong with the picture in front of her. She hoped she was just overreacting, but a nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her she wasn't.

Making up her mind, she reached for her mobile and dialled Rick. The line rang a few times before connecting.

_ "Hey, Jules. What's up?" _

"Has Magnum called you at all this morning?" she asked, trying to sound casual. There was no reason to assume there was anything wrong at the moment… except she still couldn't shake the feeling that there was, and that was worrying her.

_ "No, why?"  _ Rick sounded like he'd picked up on her tone.

"I'm sure it's nothing, but, well, you know Magnum," she said.

He sighed.  _ "Yeah, I do. What's going on?" _

"He's nearly an hour late, and he's not picking up his phone at all. I pinged his phone, and he's currently out in the middle of nowhere, near the old campground about thirty minutes from Robin's. You know, the one in the middle of practically nowhere? I was just wondering if something had come up with a case that he'd looped you in on."

_ "No, not me. But that… Well, it  _ does  _ sound like him normally, but he seemed pretty set on making that appointment when you'd told him about it,"  _ Rick told her.  _ "Want me to go check it out?" _

She chewed her lip for a moment, then sighed. "No, I'll go take a look," she replied. "Hopefully it's nothing, and he just got caught up on something with a case again."

_ "I'll meet you there."  _ Rick didn't hesitate.  _ "Better to have backup just in case." _

He did have a point, so she didn't argue. "Got it. How far out are you?"

_ "Give me twenty-five minutes." _

Higgins noticed he hadn't specifically answered her question, but she didn't call him on it. "I'm heading out now. See you there." She snapped the laptop closed and hurried for the garage. If everything was fine, she was definitely going to ream Magnum a new one—and have even more to hold over his head going forward. If it wasn't… well, chances were likely the man was in some mess or another, and her mind was already running through possible scenarios, none of which she liked.

Before she threw the vehicle into reverse and headed for the road, she took the time to double-check the pistol stowed in her glove compartment. She never knew what she was going to walk into when Thomas Magnum was involved.

She pulled up the map on her phone with the location of Magnum's phone, which she noted with concern still hadn't moved from when she'd first pinged it. Something funny was going on, and she was starting to feel very glad for Rick's immediate offer of assistance.

* * *

T he whole room was spinning. Magnum blinked, trying to bring it back into focus. He was  _ really _ close to just blacking out, and he almost didn't want to fight the feeling. It would be so much easier to just give in.

When the car had finally come to a stop and the trunk had opened… however long ago that had been, the bright light had nearly blinded him. He'd barely had time to squint against it before he'd been roughly pulled from the car by the same two men who'd jumped him.

They had then pushed Magnum ahead of them down a dirt path through dense trees to an old-looking cabin, where one of the men had then threatened Magnum with a gun while his friend had wrapped the end of a length of rope—the other end of which was draped over the top of one of the rafters—around their prisoner's bound wrists. The guy had then pulled the rope tight, yanking Magnum to his toes, before tying it off somewhere behind them.

Magnum had winced in pain and clenched his jaw as the man with the gun had stepped up to point it threateningly at his face.

"No one is around for miles," his captor had said ominously. "We're completely and totally alone, so no point in yelling for help. Got it?"

Magnum had nodded, more because he didn't really have an alternative response, and then the strip of tape was ripped from his mouth.  _ Ow,  _ that never didn't hurt. He'd worked his jaw, thankful for the reprieve but still concerned about what was about to happen. Clearly, these guys wanted something, otherwise they wouldn't have gone to all this trouble to grab him. And if this had been about leverage or ransom, they wouldn't have bothered taking the tape off, so they must want something from  _ him  _ specifically. But… what?

And, now, he knew for sure they did indeed want information from him, as evidenced by the barrage of body shots he'd just taken. They seemed to think he knew something about a murder case Katsumoto was currently working on. Apparently these guys were the ones at fault—just great—but didn't know the key witness's name, just that there was some loose end they hadn't taken care of. And they thought Magnum knew who it was for some reason. Which… he  _ did,  _ actually, but he wasn't about to tell  _ them  _ that. Instead, he'd settled for shaking his head and denying everything.

"Look, man, I don't know why you think I'm connected to an HPD case," Magnum had tried. "I'm just a private detective who makes his living tracking down missing persons and catching cheating spouses. I don't know what you're talking about. You really think the cops would give  _ me  _ that information?"

But the men hadn't seemed to believe him.

Magnum shifted his weight and winced as the movement pulled at his side. He couldn't stand properly, meaning he couldn't get comfortable. It made his legs burn from exertion, but he also couldn't just relax and drop his weight because of the stress doing so put on his shoulders. They already ached from the weight that was hanging from them, not to mention the fact that his hands had long since gone numb.

"I can do this all day."

The voice made Magnum groan internally, but he didn't give the other man the satisfaction of a response. He didn't even crack an eye open; there was nothing new to see, and he really didn't care what threat was going to be next. Everything hurt, and he just wanted to be left alone.

A blow to his stomach interrupted Magnum's thoughts with a burst of pain. He coughed, his body trying to curl over on itself but unable to as he gasped for air. His lungs were burning, and he couldn't seem to catch his breath.

"We want the witness's name," one of his captors growled in his ear. "Tell us what it is, and this can all go away."

"Don't… know…"

Another fist, this one in his side, and he clenched his teeth and grunted. It was followed by another blow that threw him sideways and caused him to lose his balance, sending him spinning around wildly as he scrabbled to regain his footing. It was nearly impossible, and the pressure it exerted on his joints was excruciating.

And then, out of nowhere, it felt like fire running through his veins, and his attempts to stand were immediately abandoned as his back arched reflexively. He could feel the current coursing through him, his vision filled with bright light, and he felt his muscles clench tightly. His jaw felt like it had locked up on him, and his eyes squeezed shut even as a staticky whiteness filled his head.

Then, it suddenly ceased, but Magnum could still feel the burning sensation inside of him as he fell back, panting heavily. Everything faded to gray, and he barely felt himself sagging even farther.

When his sight cleared a little, he could make out the blurry form of the interrogator with a black rod in hand. As Magnum's vision focused more, the metal prongs sticking out of one end confirmed his suspicions of what he'd just experienced. The other man was was grinning at him in a way that was probably supposed to seem threatening, but Magnum couldn't help a chuckle of his own past clenched teeth.

"What's so funny?"

Magnum tilted his head. "If you… think that's going to… get me, then you… didn't do your research." He couldn't count how many times he'd been through rounds of beatings and electrocutions while in that POW camp. He could hold out against these guys any day.

Plus, this time, he knew someone would be looking for him. And  _ that  _ made all the difference.

A hand suddenly closed around his throat, pulling him to his feet, and he struggled to breathe through the clenched fist on his windpipe.

"We know you're working with the police. Just give us a name! That's all it'll take."

Magnum couldn't have responded even if he'd wanted to.

The man gave him a shake and then shifted his grip down to the front of Magnum's shirt. "Who knows about Wayne Porter?" he demanded.

"You mean… besides... you…?"

"This isn't a game, P.I.!" his assailant roared.

Magnum managed to force an impish grin. "Really?" he panted. "I mean… I'm having fun… Aren't you?"

When the man threw him backward, it was all Magnum could do to keep his footing, and he nearly lost it again before catching himself. The room was spinning again, and he stood with trembling legs as he tried to regain control of his senses.

The other man started to say something, only to be interrupted as the sound of distant engines caught his attention. "Go check it out," he told his buddy, who still had the gun in his hand. When the door had shut again, he turned back to Magnum. "Nobody's coming to help you. So you might as well just tell us what we want to know. This can all be over a lot quicker."

Magnum didn't even bother replying, just clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead.

The electricity entered his skin again, setting his muscles to spasming and driving him even closer to the edge of consciousness.

* * *

Both Rick and Higgins had their guns at the ready as they exited their vehicles. There was something about the place, abandoned to the jungle, that shaded everything with an ominous feeling. The two of them exchanged glances.

"Do you think he's here?" Rick couldn't help asking. It seemed odd. There were no signs of human life anywhere, and he didn't see any vehicles either—Ferrari or otherwise.

In response, she nodded. "The signal is coming from here. Maybe he hid the car somewhere so as not to be spotted." She shook her head with a small grin. "I am always telling him not to use something that bright for surveillance."

Glancing around, Rick shook his head. "I hate to say it, but…" He trailed off.

"Me too."

They cautiously made their way forward, alert for any sign of danger. There was a flash of movement then, and Rick barely had time to yell, "Gun!" before shots erupted around them.

Both ducked behind nearby trees, pulling their own weapons.

With Magnum missing like he was, this place being in the state it was, and now a gunman shooting at them from the same vicinity as Magnum's suspiciously still cell signal, neither of had any doubts this guy was trouble.

Risking a glance around the trunk, Rick had to pull back immediately to avoid a bullet that slammed into the wood and splintered the bark. "Can you see him?" he hissed at Juliet.

She waited a second, then stepped sideways for her own look. She had a little more time than he had, and, when she again ducked behind the tree, she nodded. "Your two o'clock, on the porch."

Rick took a deep breath. "Cover me," he told her.

Nodding, she leaned around the tree and fired off several rounds toward their assailant. With the man's attention fully fixed on Juliet, Rick stepped out from cover and pulled the trigger.

The man dropped.

Juliet and Rick hurried forward, their guns still up and ready just in case the gunman was playing them. They got to the porch, and Rick tucked the guy's weapon into his waistband while Juliet leaned down to check his pulse.

She shook her head and straightened up, then they both stepped forward toward the cabin door. Rick silently mouthed a three-two-one countdown, then threw the door open for his companion to step inside. He was right behind her—

They both froze at the sight in front of them.

Thomas was there, but his condition shocked them both. He was sagging against the rope holding him up. There were several fresh bruises on his face and blood trickling from his nose and the corner of his mouth. His blue patterned shirt was dirty, soaked with sweat around the neck and under the armpits, and ripped—not to mention the burn marks that both of his friends immediately identified.

But even more concerning was the man with an arm around Thomas's neck and a large black pistol pressed to the prisoner's temple.

"Stop right there!" the gunman barked.

They obeyed and halted their steps but didn't lower their weapons.

"Give it up, man!" Rick called. "You're outnumbered, and the cops will be here any minute." It was a fib, but he didn't care. Whatever it took to save Thomas.

"I mean it! I'll shoot him!"

Rick looked over at his friend. "You okay there, T.M.?"

His friend was pale and breathing heavily, but he returned Rick's gaze steadily. "Just shoot this guy," he grunted.

"Shut up!" The man gave his hostage a shake, and both of the others could see the grimace that crossed Thomas's face at the motion.

"Come on," Higgins said, and Rick realized she was talking to him. "Just like outside," she murmured. Then, louder, she turned back to the gunman. "Hey, let's talk. What do you want?" She stepped forward, putting her hands out to either side. "Maybe we can work something out."

Rick watched as the man's eyes followed Jules, who was slowly sidestepping away from Rick. She was giving him an opening, and he watched for the moment he could use it.

"Stay where you are!" the guy ordered, moving his weapon to point her way.

As soon as the barrel of the pistol had moved from Thomas, Rick took the shot.

Higgins sprang forward almost as soon as Rick had fired, grabbing at Thomas as he collapsed at the sudden lack of support. "It's okay, Magnum; it's okay. We're here."

Rick was right behind her, pulling a knife from his pocket even as he kicked the kidnapper's weapon across the floor. He reached up above his friends' heads to slice through the strands of coarse rope holding Thomas, then immediately moved to help Higgins lower the other man's weight to the floor.

He gently worked the rope from his friend's wrists, clenching his teeth in anger at the way the now-bloodied strands had embedded themselves into Thomas's skin. Tossing the bonds aside, he watched the other man worriedly, concerned by how limp his buddy was. While still conscious, Thomas's eyes were slow to follow Higgins' finger.

Rick pulled out his phone to dial 911 as he watched her continue to quickly examine Thomas. When she tugged up the hem of the man's ruined shirt, Rick winced at the already visible bruising and the pattern of burn marks there—made all-too-familiar by the memories of a dim, dirty POW camp that the images brought rushing back to Rick's mind.

The operator promised to dispatch emergency services as quickly as possible, and Rick thanked her, then hung up and called Katsumoto. They needed to get someone out to the scene, seeing what Thomas had gone through and the fact that there were two bodies to take care of.

Thomas was shivering as he took a deep breath that didn't seem to quite make it down into his chest. He coughed and tried to push himself up off the floor, but Jules put a firm but gentle hand on his chest.

"Lie still," she ordered.

He coughed again, then clenched his jaw and looked between Higgins and Rick and back again, then shook his head. "The… Porter case," he whispered hoarsely.

"What? Shh, don't worry about that right now," Juliet assured him, cradling his head in the crook of her elbow as she held the back of her hand against his forehead. "The ambulance will be here soon."

"No…" He shuddered and groaned as the movement seemed to aggravate his side, then shook his head. "These guys… they did it."

Rick glanced at the form of the gunman on the floor. "Wait, is  _ that  _ what this is about?" He knew he sounded angry, but he didn't care. He  _ was _ angry. No, scratch that; he was furious.

"Yeah," Thomas nodded weakly. He sagged back against the floor, exhausted.

Jules moved her palm from his face to reach for his hand. "It's over," she soothed. "Don't worry about them. Just relax."

As if she'd given  _ him  _ the order, Rick took a deep breath of his own. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay. They'd nearly lost Thomas—again—but… they hadn't. They'd made it in time to neutralize the bad guys and, it would seem, helped with a murder case. Rick shouldn't be surprised anymore when it came to the things his friend got mixed up in.

Higgins was leaning in, murmuring something encouraging, and Thomas closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. Rick was relieved to see the fear and stress starting to disappear from Magnum's face—although the pain that was still there clenched at Rick's chest.

And then the sound of sirens filtered through the open door, and Rick glanced toward the window. Faint flashes of red and blue could be seen through the dirty pane.

It was going to take some time, but everything really would be okay.

They might just have to make Thomas vet his potential clients more thoroughly in the future, though.


End file.
